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Post by cjm on Oct 13, 2013 15:54:25 GMT
To advertise it elsewhere on the website we need some sort of pictorial representation together with text about the forum. I thought that we should put the emphasis on the fact that most members have some sort of connection with South Africa I also, when creating the board, had to choose a category. There are options such as current affairs and art. I chose entertainment. I guess than can be changed as well. Some suggestions as regards the avatar - merely intended to jolt your artistic flair. ESCIFstreetart SB4 SB1
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Post by amatambo on Oct 15, 2013 19:02:04 GMT
I rather like the last "cartoon"-like picture - reminds me of a time - now VERY MANY decades ago (1956, to be precise) when I was the so-called "Postmistress" in a little hamlet called Sheepmoor, situated about halfway between Ermelo and Piet Retief. The Post Office and Switchboard were housed in the same room, about the size of a largish lounge or dining-room and Ulandi (the Switchboard operator) and I would often swop positions to break the monotony of these two positions. The exchange or switchboard served a series of farm lines - and every morning when Ulando opened up (and noted in her register) at 8.00 a.m., one of the ladies on a farm would give the board a long ring from her farm line - you know the old type that one had to turn a handle for and she would fall in with: "Môre, Meisie, gee my asseblief Trichardt vyf-nul..." Yes, everyone in the area knew this "Tante Diedericks" as she was also notorious for listening in to conversations when those were being conducted between her line and another from elsewhere... Those times were far more laid-back and relaxed, but this old lady also provided for some fun. I remember an occasion when I was doing the board and two farmers were having a discussion - one of them on the same line as our eavesdropping "Auntie." These two men realised they were being eavesdropped, so one said to the other: "Don't tell anyone, but have you heard what old Tante Diedericks did..." and he rattled off some funny (imaginary) story that the old soul had done or said..." and the next minute she angrily chipped in: "Maar nou lieg jy mos, jou maaifoedie!!!!" However, these old switchboards could also be dangerous - one day a lulu of a storm was brewing and a lightning bolt hit the building, at the same time the telephone wires and into Landi's earphone - it was so violent that her ear actually bled and she had to see a doctor to ensure that she did not lose her hearing in that ear... Yep - those were the days... Then my mom and stepdad also had one of those farm lines, their number being Lothair 2202, and their one neighbour also loved eavesdropping on people. And later when we went to visit the old folks and the phone rang with its code - two long, one short, one long ring, I would answer as follows: "HOëVELD UITSAAIKORPORASIE!!! BLY INGESKAKEL VIR DIE JONGSTE NUUS..." This particular eavesdropper would then know to stay off-line until we would return home again after our visit...
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Post by amatambo on Oct 15, 2013 19:04:38 GMT
Just HAD to add this lovely story I received long ago...
THE OLD PHONE ON THE WALL……..
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighbourhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please” could supply anyone's number and the correct time. My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbour. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlour and dragged it to the landing climbing up; I unhooked the receiver in the parlour and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information. I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience. "Isn't your mother home?" came the question. "Nobody's home but me," I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?" the voice asked. "No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open the icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice. After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Kalgoorlie was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts. Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better. Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please." "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked. All this took place in a small town in Tasmania when I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Sydney. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy. A few years later, on my way North to university, my plane put down in Newcastle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialled my hometown operator and said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information." I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?" “I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me.” I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls." I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally." Three months later I was back in Tasmania. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said, “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?" "Yes." I answered. "Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant. Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today? Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for. Life is a journey... NOT a guided tour. I loved this story and just had to pass it on.
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Post by cjm on Oct 16, 2013 17:30:45 GMT
Another possibility. Here I added text. logo3
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Post by cjm on Oct 19, 2013 17:43:25 GMT
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Post by cjm on Oct 21, 2013 17:15:23 GMT
The one Amatambo liked - with some script Logo4
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Post by cjm on Oct 23, 2013 5:08:03 GMT
Not that I want to be pushy, but I want to add us to the ProBoards directory. My personal favourite is the following: SB5Apart from the fact that it has the holy cross, it would be legible even in thumbnail format - which basically is the only objection I have to Amatambo´s choice: Logo4 Not all together now.
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Post by amatambo on Oct 23, 2013 19:33:27 GMT
Not that I want to be pushy, but I want to add us to the ProBoards directory. My personal favourite is the following: SB5Apart from the fact that it has the holy cross, it would be legible even in thumbnail format - which basically is the only objection I have to Amatambo´s choice: Logo4 Not all together now. You have a point there, CJM - go for it!
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